Chapter 787: Flashy Introduction
*Bing-Bong*
Wait a minute…why does this plot point feel familiar?
|I don’t know what you’re talking about.|
A bunch of children in the ring, but they’re surprisingly tougher than anticipated…hold the hell up isn’t this just like that one episode of-
|No, it is not! The concept of throwing children into a fighting arena is unusually common. This could very well not be a reference to that particular show.|
Uh huh…
|…|
You had a mad crush on that crazy blind brawler as a child, didn’t you?
|Shut up.|
That’s not a no…
*Bing-Bong*
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“Alright! Let’s get this slaughterfest of an art festival started by introducing our first speciality fighter!”
As if listening to the announcers intent, two of the three spotlights went out. This caused everyone to naturally bring their attention over to where the remaining spotlight was, and the fighter underneath it.
Illuminate by the overhead spotlight was a rather short figure, dressed in rather colorful yet rugged clothes and equipped with a giant paintbrush strapped to their back like a spear. Upon this warrior’s face was a rather simple looking mask, concealing the fighter’s age and the fact whether or not this warrior was a man or a woman.
Evidently, since there were actually first-timers in the crowd at this moment in time, some had questions as to whether or not this fighter was legitimate.
“Wait, that’s a mystery fighter? Isn’t he kind of…short, to be one?”
“Ah contraire, my friend. As a wise man once said, never judge a book by its cover. I’ve seen that little bastard fight before, and let me tell ya, he is a devious little motherfucker.”
“That would explain the bookie’s rates…”
The moment this warrior armed with a giant brush appeared, the bookie’s set the odds of Azida winning to be one to five.
“Our first mystery fighter is one who embodies the phrase, ‘A picture is worth a thousand words! When he gets into the ring, the world becomes his canvas of pain! Give it up for older brother of the Mad Craft duo, Mad Ink!”
“WOOOOO!”
As if to make sure the audience understand that his moniker wasn’t just for show, Mad Ink proceeded to pull the giant brush off of his back and began to swing around above his head. As he did, strange clouds of shimmering ink that radiated this weird aura of uncertainty, began to form and disperse at a rapid pace. Once he was done with his little display, Mad Ink proceeded to slam the brush downwards, causing all of the ink clouds to come crashing down onto the floor, creating a splatter pattern that took on the shape of a nearly perfect flower.
Many members of the audience was dazzled by the display, some found it to be unnecessarily gaudy, but a minute few could sense that those clouds of ink were anything but simple.
Uncaring of the audience’s thoughts though, the spotlights switched from focusing on Mad Ink, to focusing on yet another short fighter that had a similar build and style to the former. However, it plain to see for most people that this particular fighter’s outfit was a touch more feminine than their painting counterpart. As well, instead of having a giant paint brush strapped to their back like a spear, this other fighter had a weird bundle strapped to her back that looked like a giant spool of thread. If one were to take a closer look they would notice the threads of this spool were actually snaking their way down the fighter’s arms.
“Our second fighter just so happens to be the younger sister of the Mad Craft Duo, but don’t let that age gap fool you! Her fingers are so nimble that she’ll you weave into a trap before you’ll even see it coming and her designs so realistic that you’ll think she can weave reality. Please, give your praise to Mad Stitch!”
“WOOOOO!”
Unlike her brother, Mad Stitch did not proceed to whip around the spool of thread on her back like a weapon, instead, she simply flexed her fingers and started weaving in midair. As she did, the spool on her back came to life and began feeding thread down her arms and into finger tips. In a matter of seconds, Mad Stitch created a woven doll in the shape of a bear. Once the bear doll was formed, it briefly waved at the crowd before becoming undone, returning to the spool of thread on Mad Stitch’s back.
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‘Mad Ink and Mad Stitch? You gave them stage names?’
[Actually, young master, they gave themselves stage names.]
‘What?’
[They, apparently, got the idea after watching several hours worth of what your memories have categorized as “pro-wrestling”.]
‘Oh dear gods.’
[The stage names and flashy introduction was the least we could do, the kids also wanted their own entrance themes but we managed to convince them not to have one.]
[Entrance theme, you say?!]
‘Oh no…’
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‘Of course the first two fighters I have to deal with is the Mad Craft duo,’ Azida mentally cursed. Intimidated as he was though, Azida made sure to keep his guard up and his eye on not just the most dangerous tag team in this entire arena, but on the mysterious third fighter as well. After all, not only was this third fighter a completely new factor, but he could sense that whatever weird power the Mad Craft siblings had, this third fighter had it in spades.
Azida didn’t know who this mysterious third fighter was, but he was about to given one hell of an intro.
As the spotlights switched away from Mad Stitch, the now illuminated third fighter was found to be significantly…taller. Granted, the aforementioned figure was also covered head-to-toe in a dark cloak that made jt high impossible to make out any facial features.
“Whoa, that’s new…”
“Mad Stitch, Mad Ink, the Arachnid…yeah I don’t know who this one is. This aura is unfamiliar to me too.”
“Uh, guys…is it just me or does it feel like the air pressure in this arena just dropped like crazy?”
“You’re not crazy, is that a fucking storm cloud?!”
While it would normally be considered proper etiquette to keep quiet during a fighter’s introduction, the crowd couldn’t help but discuss given the weirdness that accompanied this particular fighter. Well, increased weirdness.
“This third fighter of ours is actually relatively new to our hallowed halls of conflict, but she is by no means a rookie when it comes to battle.”
The cloud looming over the mysterious fighter’s head suddenly began to glow with the slightest arcs of electricity, as the sound of thunder began to rumble soon after the announcer made that statement.
“To this warrior, thunder is her background music.”
*Rumble.*
“Lighting are her stage lights!”
*Rumble, rumble!*
“And the storm is her stage. Give it up for the one! The only!”
*Rumble, rumble, CRACK!*
Before the announcer could finish her introduction, the storm cloud looming over the cloaked figure’s head suddenly flared to life and released a powerful bolt of lighting that engulfed them in electrical fire.
“My eyes!”
“My ears!”
Not only that, but the sudden burst of lighting and thunder had caught many members of the audience off guard, causing them to become either temporarily blinded or deafened by the sudden burst of energy.
Once their senses returned though, the audience was greeted by a rather captivating sight.
“Whoa…”
“Talk about an electrifying beauty…”
“Huh…why does she seem so familiar…”
Several members of the audience expected to see a charred corpse after the lighting struck, but we’re pleasantly surprised to see that wasn’t the case. Instead, they found that standing in the middle of the spotlight was a young woman with a confident demeanor, dressed in a strange blue outfit that seemed to demand their attention, as if she was the only star in the night sky. Like her counterparts though, this mystery fighter also kept a mask on her face, albeit, hers had a much simpler design and barely covered anything on her face since it was a simple masquerade mask.
Not one to be starstruck though, the announcer picked right back up to finish the introductions.
“As I was saying! Please put your hands together and welcome, the one and only, Thunder Diva!”
“WOOOOO!”
As if it the most natural thing in the world to her, the one known as Thunder Diva bowed before her adoring crowd.
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‘The Thunder Diva? Really?’
[To be fair, maestro, I heard that Nepherage gave herself the moniker of “Rumbling Mountain Maiden”, literally seconds after being created.]
[I regret nothing.]
[As you should.]
[Wait, were we supposed to give ourselves titles after receiving a name? Because I don’t think I did.]
[Nah, you’re good, Screamira. I think this is just a them thing.]
[It most certainly is not.]
‘Ay caramba…wait a minute, if Hurricroak’s down there by herself, where the fuck did the rest of you go?’
